


judas kiss

by baudelaires



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Found Family, M/M, Murphy POV, S7 Spoilers, bc im a sucker for that dynamic, i had to change the ending of this after watching the finale bc Murphy looked SO HOT, kind of a character study?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 11:36:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20152960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baudelaires/pseuds/baudelaires
Summary: “You think we care about that traitor?” Bellamy said, the words hitting Murphy like a slap in the face.“Lord knows you shouldn’t,” Josephine sighs, and then she delivers them an ultimatum. Option A: Save Emori, Josephine kills Murphy, Russell goes to war.Option B: Surrender to Josephine, and everybody lives. Except Clarke.Murphy already knows which option Bellamy is going to choose.





	judas kiss

**Author's Note:**

> OF COURSE i had to tackle the whole bellamy calling murphy a traitor thing. so here it is

John Murphy had stared death in the face on more occasions than one. Each time, though, death’s face was different.

When he was no older than eight, lying bedridden while the flu ravaged his body, death wore his father’s face, as he was floated for stealing medicine to save his son. His mother told him it was his fault.

When he was seventeen, swinging from a tree branch with a rope around his neck, it wore Charlotte’s face, a scared twelve-year-old kid watching him be punished for her mistakes.

A few months later, death looked like Ontari, when she kept him chained beside her bed, and sometimes in it.

Today, death wore Clarke’s face, except she wasn’t Clarke. Clarke was dead, or at least, he’d thought she was, and Josephine Lightbourne was wearing her likeness and promising him immortality.

And Murphy, who had seen death too many times to count, whose goal was always,  _ always _ , to survive, had agreed.

But he’d forgotten, this was Clarke, and Bellamy was bound to come to her rescue. She was a princess, after all, and Bellamy was the knight in shining armor, riding in to save her.

And Murphy? He was the villain, like always. The proverbial dragon, standing between the knight and his princess.

But this princess had a knife, and Murphy had found it pressed to his throat. He was staring down death once again.

His hands flew up in a gesture of surrender. Josephine kept a tight grip on his shoulder, the cold tip of her blade biting against the thin skin of his throat.

“Step away from the device,” she warned. Emori stood frozen, the EMP in her hands, eyes locked with Murphy’s.

_ Don’t do anything stupid,  _ he wished he could tell her, but he was afraid that if he spoke, Josephine would drive that knife into his jugular, or worse, hurt Emori. 

Slowly, Emori set down the EMP and held her empty hands out for Josephine to see.

“You think we care about that traitor?” Bellamy said, the words hitting Murphy like a slap in the face.

“Lord knows you shouldn’t,” Josephine sighs, and then she delivers them an ultimatum. Option A: Save Emori, Josephine kills Murphy, Russell goes to war. 

Option B: Surrender to Josephine, and everybody lives. Except Clarke.

Murphy already knows which option Bellamy is going to choose. 

Murphy glances up and sees Bellamy sharing a grim look with Echo, running the choices over in his mind. Echo watches him think with narrowed eyes, lithe body poised to strike wherever he tells her. A muscle twitches in Bellamy’s jaw. Murphy looks helplessly to Emori, who stares back at him, her fear clear on her face. 

“Tick-tock,” Josephine sing-songs. 

Then an unfamiliar alarm blares out across the fields. Everyone’s heads turn in the direction of Sanctum. Josephine tuts. “That can’t be good for you.”

Echo turns back to Bellamy. “We can’t do this without Jackson,” she hisses.

“You don’t need him,” Murphy bites out, painfully aware that Josephine could kill him if she doesn’t like what he says next. And he’s already guessing she won’t. “Find Gabriel. He was one of them.” At the name, Josephine’s grip on his shoulder tightens. 

“Gabriel would be 106 by now.” she spits. “Also known as dead!”

Echo, eyes calculating, calls her bluff. “Then why do you look so concerned?” Josephine meets Echo’s eyes coldly. She doesn’t seem to have an answer.

As the alarm continues to sound and the growl of motorcycle engines grows closer, Echo’s eyes dart to Emori. “Set the EMP,” she orders. Emori holds Echo’s gaze, hesitating for a moment before she leaps into action.

At the same time, Josephine releases Murphy, slashing downward with her knife as she steps away. Murphy cries out as the blade slices through his thigh. He falls to the ground, curling in on himself as his hands reach blindly for the wound, trying to stop the blood. 

Emori screams out his name, abandoning the EMP as she rushes to his side. Her hand presses overtop of his against the gushing wound in his thigh. Both of their hands are sticky with red in a matter of seconds. She’s shouting instructions at Echo, trying to guide her through setting the EMP, but Murphy can hear nothing over the ringing in his ears. His heart is pounding frantically as he watches more and more blood spout from the wound. Josephine must have hit an artery. 

Josephine…

Through blurry vision, Murphy watches as Bellamy drags her over the shield line and into the trees.

_ Guess he chose Option C,  _ Murphy thinks deliriously. 

“Emori, come on!” Echo urges. “He’s with them now!”

_ Traitor,  _ Bellamy’s voice rings in Murphy’s ears.

“No,” Emori replies sharply. “I’m staying with him. Go find our friends!”

Forcing his hazy vision to focus, Murphy looks Emori in the eyes. “You have to go,” he grits out.

“Shut up, John,” she replies, holding his gaze. “And my answer is yes. I will love you forever, even if we die today.” She leans her forehead against his, and the edges of Murphy’s vision begin to go black as he passes out.

The last thing he remembers hearing is Emori’s voice urging him to stay.

When he wakes, because of course he wakes — John Murphy has seen the face of death enough times that he would never go down without a fight — the Primes’ guards are dragging him and Emori up the steps of the palace. The leg of his pants is soaked through with blood, and every time he moves, jolts of pain arc through his muscles. 

“They’re not talking, sir,” Jade, the curly-haired guard, tells Russell, who fixes Murphy and Emori with an icy look. There is no mercy, no humanity behind those cold, blue eyes. He’s a tyrant, and worse, he’s a father. His daughter is missing, her life is in danger, and he’s going to do everything he can to get her back.

“We’ll see about that. Put them with the others,” Russell says, and Murphy has to bite back a cry of agony as the guards drag them back out of the Great Hall.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @fiyer-o!!


End file.
